Inauguration Day
by etraytin
Summary: The Santos Inauguration from fifteen different points of view


Author's Note: Today's fic is loosely based on a prompt from AvengerAssembled, who asked for Santos' Inauguration Day from the perspective of the losing candidates. I couldn't find enough meat on that bone, so I made it a drabble series for a bunch of people who we didn't see enough of in Tomorrow. They are not real drabbles because the average length is 122 words, but I did my best.

This fic is actually dedicated to anyone in the world EXCEPT AvengerAssembled because he also keeps asking for "the erotic adventures of Glen-Allen Walken" and I can't even.

…...

Matt Santos woke up that morning with the entire world hovering somewhere just above his head. It was a day full of ceremonies and celebrations, like a wedding day, a commencement, a moving day, a first day of work and a senior prom all rolled into one. He'd spent a year feeling like a passenger on the Santos Express, but today he got behind the wheel of the nation. That was exciting, but all he could really feel all day was that weight gradually sinking downward, settling onto his shoulders as the trappings of the office began to fall into place. He wondered how Jed Bartlet had always seemed to wear it all so effortlessly despite his older, frailer body.

Arnold Vinick sat in the spectator seats reserved for the future members of the Santos Cabinet and watched the Inauguration. All the members of the opposing team, lined up for their victory ceremony before getting to work on the Democratic agenda. Matt Santos wasn't even wearing a coat. Arnie didn't regret not contesting the results of the election, not really. He was a patriot, and he'd done what was best for country and, in the long run, for his party. He was proud of that. But he could almost feel the leather of that Bible under his hand as the words of the Presidential Oath ran through his head.

Bob Russell sat in his proper seat at the Inauguration with a bland smile on his face, but his mind was already a thousand miles away. When it was done, he said a fond farewell to the remaining members of his staff at the OEOB, then cleared out before the movers came in. He'd been invited to several of the Inaugural Balls, but had regretfully declined each one. Nobody wanted to be the guy who stayed too long at the party, and to be quite honest, Bob Russell was just a little bit tired of politics. He'd be back, oh, absolutely, but for right now he had a sorely neglected backhand swing to work on.

John Hoynes watched the Inauguration from a hotel room in Baltimore, on a television with a slightly crackly screen. Home hadn't been a very congenial place lately; his second wife was far less forgiving than his first had been. But there were always women who were attracted to power, and some of them still equated "Former vice-president" and "former Democratic front-runner" with a power he'd never taste again. One of them slept behind him now, uninterested in the Inaugural celebrations. He didn't care to speculate as to whether she'd been alive for the first election he'd voted in. On the screen, he caught sight of Josh Lyman's face, and thought about how easy it was to make the same mistakes again and again.

Glen-Allen Walken watched the Inauguration from his home in Missouri, settled down in his den with a glass of bourbon in his hand and his dog at his feet. He was finding retirement considerably more rewarding than he'd thought. His run for the presidency had been expected, even required after his brief stint in the Oval Office, but his heart had never really been in it. Sitting behind the Resolute Desk had been a momentary thrill, the culmination of a life spent in public service, but then the fear had started. He did not envy the man who sat behind that desk every day and made decisions that shook the world or ended lives or started wars. Didn't mean he'd vote for the sonofabitch.

Margaret didn't watch the Inauguration at all; she was much too busy. Between seeing to the packing and shipping of CJ's personal effects, making sure that Toby's pardon reached the proper office before noon, and riding herd on all the other assistants, she barely had a chance to glance at a television all morning. She and Ginger were the only assistants not leaving with the administration. Margaret had certainly planned to, either to the OEOB or maybe a quiet consultancy office in Boston or New Hampshire, but election day had changed that. Josh needed her here, at least for awhile longer. She could always watch the inauguration on tape later, but it wouldn't seem right without Leo up there on the dais.

Ronna could've attended the Inauguration if she'd wanted; there was a place for her in among the Santos staffers. She'd elected to start work early instead. Executive assistant to the President was a simple title for a nearly overwhelming job, one she wasn't sure she was prepared for. She'd known Matt for years, but that wasn't who he was anymore. He was President Santos, and she was the guard at his gates. (Josh was too, but that man couldn't keep a schedule if it were stapled to his shirt.) She needed to get started as quickly as possible. But as she watched Debbie watching Matt become President Santos, the overwhelming pride brought tears to her eyes. Time to get started.

Charlie had considered walking down to the Mall to watch the Inauguration in person, the way he had in President Bartlet's first term. There was something electrifying about the crowds gathered to watch a new president be sworn in. Instead he took his cues from CJ, who was staying in the White House till the last minute, dotting every i and crossing every t on her stewardship. He knew it sounded weird and he never told anybody, but he pretty much wanted to be like CJ when he grew up. She understood loyalty better than anyone he'd ever met. And as he watched the ceremony in Will's empty office, Charlie knew this wasn't the last time he'd be in the White House.

Annabeth smiled all morning. It was such a happy occasion, so immensely gratifying for everyone who'd worked so hard and so long to put Matt Santos into office. Even the President-Elect himself was joking through his nerves as they discussed the schedule for the day. Helen shared a breakfast mimosa toast with Annabeth and Donna, the core of her new staff, to celebrate all the work they had coming up, and Annabeth had smiled and raised her glass. The crowd was massive and excited as they watched the new President be sworn in. Annabeth squinted into the bright winter sunlight and smiled at all of them. It wasn't until she was safely ensconced in her brand new office that she sat down and cried.

Danny set up the television first so that he could watch the Inauguration. It looked pretty ridiculous, sitting on a stack of boxes in a mostly-empty condo in Mar Vista, so he uncovered the sofa too, and that was enough. CJ had told him she wouldn't be there, but he couldn't help looking for her anyway in the crowd around the Presidents. He saw plenty of friends, plenty of press clustered around the edges. It was a little weird seeing so much of his past spread out in front of him on that dais and realizing he wasn't going to miss that much of it, so long as CJ showed up at LAX tomorrow afternoon and still looked happy to see him.

Helen barely saw her children on Inauguration Day, and that seemed wrong somehow. Her mother woke them up, bathed them and got them dressed while Helen went over the day's itinerary and talked with her staff, and by the time she arrived at breakfast the kids were almost done. She kissed them and sent them to ride separately to the ceremony while Helen and Abbey Bartlet made pleasant small talk about their children and the Residence on their limo ride. As she stood with her husband and smoothed her skirt before stepping onto the stage, she thought about Zoey Bartlet, and about how relieved Abbey seemed to be going home. But it was too late to turn back now.

Hannah Lyman hosted an Inauguration viewing party at her retirement village in Florida, and spent the entire time talking about her son. Joshua was singlehandedly responsible for putting Santos in the White House, after all, and she wanted everyone to know it. Nobody but a true political genius could even have come close. She waxed rhapsodic on this subject for quite awhile, until the camera actually panned over the beloved son in question, and found him touching foreheads with his former assistant while she smiled intimately at him and fixed his scarf. After that, Hannah had an entirely new topic of conversation for the rest of the day, not to mention a few phone calls to make.

Zoey Bartlet sat with her sisters in the cozy den of the farm in New Hampshire, watching her parents take the dais one more time as the new President was sworn in. Watching Matt Santos take the oath gave her a tremendous feeling of relief that she'd never share with anybody. The first two years in office had been fun, but ever since Rosslyn, part of Zoey had been holding her breath and waiting for the worst. Having the worst actually almost happen to her hadn't made it any better, despite the best therapy money could buy. But now there was a new president, a new target for the world's hatred and violence. She and her family were finally safe.

Mallory couldn't bring herself to watch the Inauguration, even after she'd fought traffic to get all the way to the White House that morning. She taped it for posterity, and planned to put it with all the campaign ephemera and the scrapbook Margaret had made, so that someday she'd be able to tell her little boy about his grandfather who had been elected to the second-highest office in the land. There were already books coming out about him, most of them trash, but a few that she'd add to the collection eventually. For today, though, she went home and played with her baby, and tried not to think about who wasn't getting sworn in today.

Toby watched the Inauguration from Andy's house, with a twin on each knee and a cup of apple juice in his hand. Andy herself wasn't there, of course, she was attending the event in person like half of DC. She'd offered to let him come with her, a very generous offer given the potential optics, but he hadn't wanted to go. Lately time had weighed heavily on him, and any time he could spend with the kids was precious. Just as Santos was saying the oath of office, his cell phone rang. The pardon attorney was calling with some extremely surprising news. For once the speechwriter had nothing to say, so he just said thank you, hung up, and hugged his children a little bit closer.


End file.
